But A Rose Has Thorns

"Nothing. I guess that I must have been talking in my sleep," laughed
Rose, as she now sat up energetically, fully awake. By their own request
Dorothy Roberts and she still occupied one of the few double rooms
reserved for third-year student nurses, who preferred to share their
quarters.

The other followed, more drowsily.

"Look," called Rose, from the window. "It's going to clear. Oh, see that
wonderful rainbow. I don't believe I ever saw one in the morning
before."

"'Rainbow at morning, sailors take warning,'" quoted Dorothy.

"I don't believe in that, or any other _unpleasant_ 'stupidstition'--as
my reverend used to call them," Rose retorted, as she hastily began to
dress, for the last time, in the blue striped costume which had been
hers for nearly three years, but was, in a few hours, to change to one
pure white, like a sombre chrysalis to a radiant butterfly. "No matter
when a rainbow appears it is always an omen of fair promise. It's Mother
Nature smiling through her tears."

She caught, in the mirror, a reflection of her friend's affectionate
glance; her own cheek began to dimple and her lips to curve as she said,
"I can tell by your expression just what you're going to say, and...."

"Egoist," mocked the other. "I hadn't the slightest idea of comparing
your own smile to a rainbow, so now."